Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead. All rights reserved to their respective owners.
Prologue
"To your right. To your right. TO YOUR RIGHT!" The teen yelled into the headset.
"Sorry!"
"Ugh, it's alright. Just pay attention next time. I'd rather not die."
Jacob was only fourteen when the walkers came and he was found doing what any teen would be doing at the time. Playing video games.
"So, why are you home alone again?" His friend asked.
"Mom went to the store to pick up a few groceries, she'll be back in a few minutes."
"She trusts you that much."
"I doubt it but she can't take us everywhere she goes all the time. Plus, I'm fourteen I can be responsible."
"Well, don't you have a brother?"
"Yep, he's outside playing... I think."
"Shouldn't you be watching him, if you're not sure where he is."
"He's fine. The neighborhood is pretty safe and we know most of the neighbors anyw-"
The teen was interrupted by a loud pounding on the wall. He accidentally dropped his headset and looked in the direction of the sound. After a few seconds, he put the set back on.
"What was that?"
"Probably nothing, just my little brother messing with something."
A sigh could be heard over the microphone, "I repeat, shouldn't you be watching him."
"Like I said he'll be fi-"
The pounding interrupted him again. The boy became tense as he stared at the wall. The sound was unusual and his brother wouldn't do something like that twice.
"Spencer, I have to go. We'll play later."
Jacob shut off the game and sat up on the couch. He grabbed his glasses and placed them on. Still a little tense he slowly made his way toward the screen door to the backyard. His casual blue shirt and beige colored jeans reflected off the door as he slid it open.
"Timothy!" The teen shouted as he stepped onto the back porch. No one answered. Jacob gulped a little, afraid of what could've happened to his brother. The backyard was surrounded by brush ensuring people could not see him or anyone in it. Jacob looked across the yard and his gaze eventually settled on the large tree at the corner of the yard. The only place his brother could be hiding.
"Timothy. This isn't funny, get out here!" The teen nervously yelled. This would be bad if Timothy wasn't behind that tree. Jacob stepped off the back porch slowly and made his way toward the tree.
"Timothy, come on, stop playing! You're scaring me a little," Jacob muttered the last part to himself. The teen began to shake as he neared it. Worry and fear crawled over him, afraid of the outcome of his brother's silence. Then the silence ended with a scream.
Jacob rushed toward the tree and saw something terrible. A gruesome figured man had somehow crawled through the brush and grabbed his brother's leg. The growls the man-made were equivalent to a hungry animal and his smell was worse than a bucket of raw sewage. His eyes were pure white, no pupils or irises. The teen backed away in fear.
"Jacob! Help me!" His brother's screams for help brought him back to reality. Tears were running down the little boy's cheeks. Jacob looked at the man's arm, took a deep breath, and slammed his foot into it as hard as he could.
The man didn't let go nor did he care.
"Help me, please." The boy cried holding on to the tree root trying to pull himself free.
"Timothy grab my hand."
The boy hesitated but reached for his brother's hand. Jacob pulled as hard as he could, while doing it he kicked at the man's arm hoping to free him. Then he heard a loud crunching noise and finally his brother was free. The teen looked at his brother's leg to see a torn arm still holding onto the leg.
Jacob looked at the man who roared at him for taking his meal, not a care in the world about his arm. The teen grabbed the broken arm and quickly pulled it off his brother's leg. He tossed it and rushed back inside with his brother.
Inside the house, Jacob breathed a sigh of relief before turning to his brother who was now in tears.
"It's okay Timothy," Jacob kneeled down and consoled him by placing his arm on his back and pulling him closer to his body.
"J-Jacob. W-What's going on?" The brother said still in tears as he cried on his shoulder.
"I-I don't know but I'm going to call Mom. Stay here and don't open the door for ANYONE."
Jacob left the boy in the living room and entered the kitchen. He grabbed a phone off the counter and quickly dialed his mother.
"Hello." Jacob's mother answered over the phone.
"Mom, we need to talk," Jacob stated worry in his voice.
Hearing his tone the mother became serious, "What is it? Is Timothy okay."
"No, while playing outside Timothy was attacked."
"WHAT! WHO DID THIS!"
"I-I don't know. There was a man and he latched onto his leg. He just wouldn't let go."
"Did he say anything?"
"No. He just growled and roared at me. We're safe inside the house now," The teen took a deep breath and told his mom his theory, "Mom, I think-I think it was a zombie or some kind of... something."
That did it immediately. The worry in his mother's voice all but disappeared. "Jacob, are you seriously doing this right now! Playing practical jokes on your mom and almost worrying her to death over her son.
"I'm not!" Jacob tried to say to no avail.
She sighed, "Jacob, don't do this again. Call me, when there is a real emergency. Goodbye."
She hung up on him, the boy was now on edge. He slowly re-entered the living room to see Timothy had stopped crying but was still down.
"What did mommy say?" Timothy looked up.
"I- She'll be home in a few minutes. Let's just try to relax."
He slowly nodded and went toward the couch with Jacob joining him. Jacob turned on the TV and the news was apparently the first channel on.
What they saw was horrifying. There have been multiple attacks across Georgia warranting Military Intervention. The virus is spreading quickly and the CDC has already issued warnings for people to stay indoors away from the threat.
The teen turned off the TV scared out of his mind. Then the pounding struck again. It was louder and it became more frequent.
"Jacob?!" His brother said in fear.
"Stay here."
He slowly walked toward the window near the pounding and pulled apart the curtains.
They were everywhere. A small horde had gathered around the house and had begun pounding on the walls.
"How did- how did I not notice this?" The teen said to himself.
"Jacob?" Timothy worried.
He turned toward his brother knowing what he needed to do.
"We have to leave Timothy. It's not safe here."
"But what about mom. You said she'll be here in a few minutes."
"We can't wait any longer," The teen sighed, "I'll be back. I need to get something."
"Where are you going to Jacob," the boy clung to him tears threatening to burst out.
"Just upstairs. I need to get something. I won't be long," Jacob reassured. He turned toward the stairway and began heading up it. He came across the hallway to his room. The moans and yells of the creatures outside frightened him as he entered.
He moved toward his dresser and opened the bottom drawer. Pushing apart a few clothes he saw what he needed.
A gun.
Well, specifically a Glock 17. It was his father's before he left during the divorce, the man gave it to him. His mom didn't know and didn't need to know. The teen thought he would never have to use it in his life.
Now, it was a different story.
"I wish I had trained with this more like I said I would." The boy sighed and grabbed its holster and placing the gun in it.
The teen went downstairs.
"Let's go, Timothy."
The boy only nodded and began to follow Jacob. They opened the screen door to the backyard and headed toward the brush wall. It was the only thing that stood in their way.
"Do you think we can climb it," Timothy asked as he looked up at it.
"I don't know. I've never tried."
Jacob walked to the hole the man-made through the brush.
"Where'd he go?" The teen questioned. Staring at the now empty hole. The teen could only sigh as he realized their way out.
"Timothy, get in."
He walked toward the hole and looked to Jacob, "Are you sure about this?"
"Everything will be fine. I hope," He muttered quietly. Timothy slowly entered the hole and crawled to the other side of the brush. As he came out if it, he looked around. No walkers.
"It's clear," Timothy whispered to him. Jacob nodded and got on his knees. Then he heard a crash.
He turned back, the creatures had broken through into his house. Now panicking he got back on his knees and began crawling through the hole.
"Come on," Timothy whispered.
Jacob eventually made it to the other side breathing quickly. He slowly stood up and saw the same man from before. His arm still gone.
"TIMOTHY LOOK OUT!" Jacob quickly pulled his gun out of its holster and fired. The recoil caused the boy to drop the gun and cry in pain, however, the bullet, fortunately, entered the man's head. Timothy was on the ground covering his ears. Shaking in fear.
"It's okay Timothy. I had... a lucky shot." He really needed to learn how to use the gun if he was going to survive. Jacob picked up the gun and placed it in his holster as Timothy stood up.
"What now?" Timothy asked.
"I don't know. I-I didn't think this far ahead," Jacob simply said.
"Well, do it quickly, look." Timothy pointed toward the other side of the street. Jacob looked and saw more walkers coming. The gunshot had caused many of them to come toward them.
"Okay, we need- we need to go somewhere, somewhere safe. Umm, Uncle Matt's house. We'll go to Uncle Matt's house," Jacob whisper-yelled.
"Ok," Timothy agreed.
Quickly the two boys ran away toward their Uncle's house. Hoping he'd still be alive.
Jacob had sorely miscalculated how far away his Uncle's house would be. Nightfall had already reached them and they still weren't there yet. With the creatures roaming at night the fear factor had increased tenfold for the boys. For the past few hours, they had followed the street to their uncle's home avoiding zombies when they could. For the most part, Jacob didn't have to use his gun again and he was thankful for it.
"Jacob, how far do we have to go. My legs hurt." The boy said rubbing his sore legs.
"Just a little bit more he can't be that far."
What made the walk to his uncle's home more frightening was the lack of people. They came across no one. He understood that people were ordered to stay inside but not even the lights in their homes were on. Their small town had become a ghost town in a matter of hours. The question is how did the virus spread so fast.
"You said that last time," Timothy whined.
"I-I know," the boy sighed.
Then a loud crack was heard across the sky followed by a deep boom. It began to rain. The mood of the boys went downhill from there. They were cold, wet, and tired. Their home had gotten overrun by walkers and their mom was nowhere to be seen. They were betting their last hope on getting to their uncle's house and they weren't even sure if he was still alive.
"It's raining." The boy stated.
"Great observation there, Timothy," Jacob sarcastically remarked.
As the storm intensified their ability to see diminished. Jacob covered his face to prevent the rain water from fogging up his glasses yet even he couldn't miss the house ahead of them.
"We made it," Jacob said.
The two boys headed toward the house at a rapid pace. They were finally happy to achieve some form of safety. They reached the front porch and slowly Jacob knocked on the door. The two heard footsteps and they both looked at each other a bit worried. The door opened slightly and a gun muzzle pointed at them. The two backed away a bit.
"Who is it?" The man said.
"Umm, its Jacob and Timothy. Your nephews." Jacob worriedly glanced at the gun pointed at him. Fortunately, the door completely opened to reveal their uncle. The man had black hair and fair skin. He was currently wearing an orange shirt and black pants.
"What are you two doing out here. Come inside," he said as he looked around for walkers. He hurried them inside and closed the door.
"What are you two doing here. It's dangerous to be outside right now."
"We had to leave, our house was overrun by the umm... creatures." Jacob justified.
"Okay. That makes sense," The man paced. Where is your mother?"
"We don't know. She went to the store and we couldn't stay and wait for her."
"She left you home ALONE."
"Err, Yes."
The man sighed, "Of course she did." Matthew sat down on the kitchen chair. "Okay, until we find your mother. You'll stay here. Why don't you go upstairs into the guest room. Get some sleep."
The boys nodded.
The two walked to the stairway quickly moved up.
"Jacob, do you think Mom is okay?" Timothy asked.
"I-I hope so. Let's just go to sleep and think about this in the morning."
"Ok."
Jacob entered his separate room. There were two windows, one that showed the backdrop of the woods nearby and one that gave a good view of the town. Jacob looked out each one, to see the creatures of a man's worst nightmare. They walkers wandered along looking for the next meal. One even let out a roar to the sky. Mocking him, stating this was their planet now. Maybe it was right.
The teen shook those thoughts away and grabbed his father's gun and holster from his side.
"How did Uncle Matt not notice this." He smiled to himself knowing his Uncle's reaction if he found he had a gun.
He placed it on the desk near him and sat on the bed. Kicking off his shoes he laid down listening to the soft hits of the rain. He always enjoyed the rain.
The eyes of the boy slowly but surely closed and he went to sleep.
Jacob awoke to the sound of pounding on the walls... again. He quickly got out of bed and made a beeline for the window. It was still raining as he looked down. They were everywhere. Walkers crowded around the house beating on it as hard as they possibly could.
"How, How did they find us?"
Jacob quickly grabbed his gun and rushed out of his room to see Timothy standing in the hallway frightened. They heard a crash and quickly rushed downstairs.
They were pouring in like crazy. Matthew aroused from his sleep had already had his rifle out and began firing.
"You boys need to stay upstairs! I'll handle it down here!" He yelled over his frequent shots.
Jacob grabbed Timothy's hand and rushed upstairs back into his room. They could hear the screams and moans of the walkers outside.
"Timothy, we have to get out of here." Jacob panicked.
"Where do we go?"
Jacob took a look around and eventually his gaze pointed toward the window.
"The window, maybe we can get on the roof."
The teen rushed toward the window, unlocked it, and lifted it up. He looked to his right and saw somewhat of a foothold they could use to climb.
"Okay, here's the plan. I'll grab onto the side of the house and move over so you can grab on too. Then we'll climb onto the roof and-" Jacob stopped. He didn't know what to do after that. They'd just be trapped on a roof with walkers surrounding them.
"And what?" Timothy questioned.
"Umm, I'll think of something," Jacob said, "Come on. We have to go."
Jacob slowly pulled himself out the window and grabbed onto the side of the house. He placed his foot upon the foothold and slowly moved over. The cracking and creaking of the foothold worried him.
"Is it safe?" The boy asked.
"Mostly. Now come on."
The boy hesitantly climbed out of the window and placed his foot on the foothold. As he moved closer it wobbled and shook.
"Jacob, I don't think this is safe. We should go back inside."
"With those monsters. No! The foothold is fi-"
The foothold broke off and Timothy lost his grip, however, Jacob managed to catch him and still maintained his grip onto the house with his other hand. Despite this Timothy was starting to slip out of his hand due to the rain.
"Hold on," Jacob yelled as he tried to pull both of them up. He couldn't though. He just didn't have the strength too and Timothy was starting to slip even more
"Jacob, I'm slipping."
"Just hold o-"
He fell. Timothy fell.
"AHHHH!" The boy yelled in pain as he landed on the ground. Jacob, however, was in tears. He dropped his brother and the noise the boy made drew the attention of the walkers. The boy tried to get up but his leg was injured from the fall and walkers were closing in on him fast.
Jacob needed to get down. Without a foothold, it was much harder to reach the windowsill to re-enter the house. Yet Jacob tried anyway. Keeping his grip unto the house he maneuvered himself to the window and placed his foot on the windowsill. Eventually, he made it and entered the house. He ran out the room and downstairs to see a horrifying sight. His Uncle was being feasted upon by the remaining walkers not killed. Jacob pulled out his gun waiting for them to attack. They never did, they didn't even notice him.
"AHHHHH!" His brother's scream brought him back to focus. He ran outside and saw that many walkers had already begun eating on his younger brother.
The sight brought even more tears to the teen and he began firing. Not a care in the world about the pain from recoil, or how many walkers that had begun walking toward him. Adrenaline was pumping through him and right now, he only cared about his brother.
Eventually, the numbers dwindled just enough and he rushed toward his brother. There were multiple bite marks and lacerations upon him but worst of all, the large bite on his neck. It had pulled off a large chunk of skin. The boy was struggling to breathe.
He would eventually die.
"No. No. No. No. NO!" Jacob yelled as he fell to his knees in front of his brother. He cried there. He was too late.
"Timothy, I-I'm sorry! I'm So-So sorry!" Jacob cried.
"J-Jacob I-I-I don't want t-to die."His brother gasped between pained breaths.
"I'm s-sorry! I'm s-sorry!"
He failed. He not only dropped his brother but couldn't get to him in time. Now his brother was going to die because of him. Because of his failure. It was his fault.
"I-I don't w-want to d-" Timothy never finished his sentence. His eyes closed as he took his final pained breath.
Jacob cried for what felt like hours to him. His brother died. The teen eventually opened his eyes to see the remaining walkers and those left in the house coming for him. They growled and roared.
Anger spread across his grief-stricken face. He picked up his gun and fired, not caring to aim. He just fired. He, of course, ran out of ammo. The final clicks of the gun brought Jacob to a saddening yell as he stared down at his brother.
The screams and yells with the firing of the guns had brought a horde consisting of nearly the entire town his way. He didn't care though, slowly accepting his fate.
As he continued to look at his brother he saw movement. His mouth widened in pure shock.
"Timothy?"
Yet when his brother opened his eyes nothing but horror filed the teen. They were pure white. Like the monsters. Like the ones that killed his brother.
That sight broke him. He ran, ran as fast as he possibly could into the nearby forest. He couldn't take it. His brother had just become something he now ruthlessly despised. A monster of his worst nightmares. A demon from the depths of hell.
A creature of the walking dead.
THE WALKING DEAD
AN: Well I hope you enjoyed the Prologue to my little story. I mainly wanted to focus on a backstory for my protagonist. Anyways, if you didn't like this Prologue I highly suggest you tell me why in a review. Keep it Constructive please, no flames. Also, I'd like to apologize for any grammar or punctuation errors within the story.
Well I, TheAmericanIdiot01 am out.
PEACE!